


Family Lost/Family Found (Ohana)

by snaeken, xTarmanderx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Inspired by Lilo & Stitch, M/M, Thiam Disney Movie Fest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 14:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19336711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snaeken/pseuds/snaeken, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTarmanderx/pseuds/xTarmanderx
Summary: When Liam finds an injured dog beyond the recycling center, he doesn’t think twice. Taking the dog home to his brother Scott to patch up, Liam finds himself connecting and opening up to his new pet while struggling with his anger. Between the threat of his social worker Ms. Monroe taking him from the safety of his home and making things worse for his brother, Liam finds himself barely able to stay afloat. And when his dog turns out to be more than just a dog? Liam’s life gets even more complicated.





	Family Lost/Family Found (Ohana)

The sun hangs low in the sky, burning and vengeful like it knows what he did, blaming him just like everyone else. Liam took his shirt off awhile ago and tied it around his waist, the skin on his back baking under the heat as he pulls his slowly-filling wagon along the sand. The waves are calm at the moment but the tang of sea salt still permeates the air, almost comforting in its familiarity.

Liam loves the beach.

It’s the one place which still feels like home, even when home itself is too big and too quiet and creates an insatiable itch beneath his skin until he has to get out. It’s the one place where he can clear his mind when all else fails, which he can get comfort from, which he can comfort in turn. He may not have seen much of the world but he doubts anywhere else could so accurately display the war waging beneath his skin; the blazing sun of his anger and the serene waves of his guilt. Where there is one, the other always follows soon after, the two opposing forces cohabiting in his body. 

Until they can’t.

Liam had another episode at school today. Not his fault, never his fault, but they either don’t believe him or they don’t care, and quite frankly he isn’t sure which is worse. He’s got a lump on his head from when Gabe tripped him in the cafeteria and he hit it off the side of a table, but when he punched Gabe in retaliation suddenly it’s as if the world was ending. There wasn’t that much blood, not really, and when Gabe’s friends joined in he had to punch them too, fast and hard before they could hit him first, but it was apparently enough for the school to call Scott again, dragging him away from his job at the restaurant so he could in turn drag Liam out of school for the third time this month. 

Things would be so much easier if people would just leave him alone. Triggering his IED is a game the kids at school like to play, always seeing how far they can push him before he has an episode. He doesn’t care about punching them, they shouldn’t be exploiting a mental illness for kicks and they didn’t get anything they didn’t deserve. No, it’s Scott he feels bad about. He knows Scott’s job is getting tired of him having to leave so often because of Liam, because of his stupid mental illness he can’t keep in check no matter how hard he tries. Scott tries to hide it, doesn’t want him to worry. Liam knows it’s his fault though. Just like it’s his fault Scott lost his last job, just like it’s his fault their parents aren’t around anymore and Scott has to deal with it all himself, just like--

He throws a plastic bottle into his wagon hard enough for another three to jump back out of it, scattering across the sand. He huffs and gathers them back up, placing them in his wagon again with only slightly less force. 

The ocean could swallow him whole, his guilt dragging him down like an anchor into the depths. He wishes he wasn’t like this. He wishes he could be better, could stop causing so much trouble for Scott.

He can’t, though. So the next best thing he can do is tidy up the beach. There’s always so much garbage lying around, between stuff that’s washed up from the sea and stuff abandoned after weekend parties (he found Gabe’s ID once and took great delight in shredding it).

It was Scott’s idea. Ever since Liam had complained about his meds making him tired and not like himself, his brother had done everything in his power to keep him off of them. He’d never liked the fact that Liam had been dependent on medicine and had spent countless weeks researching the best alternative methods. Liam’s forever grateful for it. Scott had been the one to gently push him to play lacrosse, teaching him the sport in his free time and spending too much money they didn’t have on the equipment. Not only that, but Scott had encouraged him to find something he loved and commit to it. Together they’d started cleaning up the beach and it’s what makes Liam feel better than anything. There’s nothing he can destroy here. Nothing he can hurt. It’s just him and the ocean. 

He collects another bottle and places it into the wagon, stretching his arms above his head. He could find more bottles to collect, but he needs to make it home soon so he can do his homework. Maybe if he’s lucky he can grab a quick bite to eat with his brother before Scott goes off to his second job. He wipes the sweat from his brow and grabs the wagon handle, pulling it along the sand. The wheels squeak and catch a few times on larger shells, but he doesn’t lose any bottles this time. He’s learned the hard way about overfilling his wagon and having to make too many trips. 

The main road is surprisingly empty for this time of day. He walks along the white lines, making his way to the recycling center that’s roughly a quarter of a mile away. The sky is starting to look overcast and he quickens his steps, hoping to beat the storm home. There hadn’t been rain in the forecast, but this is Beacon Hills. He knows better than to trust the weatherman on channel 5 news. 

He reaches the recycling center just as the first crack of thunder sounds. Still off in the distance, so he might get lucky for once. He parks his wagon next to the bin and begins to sort through it, tossing bottles and cans into the proper containers. It only takes a few minutes to unload, but he’s immensely satisfied at the sight of the empty wagon. It never fails to anchor him to the present and remind him of the small amount of good he’s done. It’s not always enough to temper his guilt, but today is one of his better days. 

As he grabs the wagon and starts for the road, a thin trail of something wet catches his attention. He drops the handle and crouches down, frowning as he presses his fingers to the pavement. It’s not water, it would have already dried in this heat. He brushes the pad of his index finger against it and turns it over, chewing his lip. It’s dark, but it’s definitely a crimson red. He tentatively sniffs his finger and the copper tang of blood floods his senses. “Shit.” He straightens up and slowly follows the trail behind the dumpsters. 

An unhappy snarl greets him, a lump of black fur pressed against the back of the bins. From the pit of darkness, two green eyes gleam at him and lips part to reveal a row of white fangs. Liam instantly crouches down, holding out his hands calmly in front of him. “Hey, buddy. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” He waits a beat and shifts forward a step. The dog lurches to its feet and snaps, stumbling and falling onto its side with a pained whimper. “I’m sorry.” Liam sits back, crossing his legs under him as he casts a quick glance at the darkening skies. “You don’t want to be caught in the rain, do you?” He asks, plucking at a few blades of grass. He can’t see any sign of injury at first glance, but he’s sure it’s hidden under the dog’s fur. 

The dog doesn’t answer. Liam slowly scoots closer, freezing as the animal lets out another low warning growl. “Okay. No more,” he promises. Thunder booms overhead and the dog shudders, whining softly. “You’re scared of storms? I used to be when I was a kid.” Liam murmurs. “My mom made me a quilt to use whenever I got scared. I’ve still got it. Maybe you could let me take you home and I could share it with you.” He offers a half smile. “I’ve got food.” He swears the dog’s ears perk up a fraction at the word. “Yeah? Are you hungry?” He asks. An ear twitches in his direction and he takes it as a sign. 

“Okay, hang on a second.” He shuffles back a couple of feet and gets up, going back around the bins. He pulls his wagon around to the back, cautiously approaching the dog. “See this? I can carry you home in it. You’re too big to carry and I don’t think you can walk.” He drops the handle and sits back down, holding out a hand toward the dog. Its ears flatten and it slowly crawls toward him on its belly, watching him for any sudden movements. He does his best to keep still, letting the animal come to him. After a painful minute of holding his breath, the dog finally presses its muzzle against his palm. “Good dog,” he murmurs. He lets the dog nose along his wrist for a moment, sighing in relief when he isn’t snapped at or bitten. “Not so scary, am I?” He turns his hand with care and gently scratches under the dog’s chin. There’s a soft rumble of contentment in response and he chuckles. “See? It’s not so bad, is it? You’re just like a giant cat.” The dog huffs and nips lightly at his wrist, but his skin isn’t broken. 

“All right. It’s time to take you home.” Liam gets up at an agonizing pace, not wanting to break the newfound trust that’s been placed in him. “I’m going to have to pick you up for this,” he warns as he steps carefully behind the giant dog. “Please don’t bite me.” Leaning down, he slowly slides his arms around the middle section of the dog. It immediately snarls, thrashing and he jerks his arms back to find both covered in blood. “Shit shit shit.” He drops down, heart hammering in his chest as he stares at the wounded animal. Mistrusting eyes are watching him as the dog pants, tiny whimpers escaping. “I’m so sorry. Can you get up?” He asks. The dog doesn’t budge. 

“Okay, new plan.” He leans back over the dog, wary as the dog bares its fangs at him. “I won’t touch under you again. I promise.” He says softly. He carefully placed his arms around the sides of the dog and lifts up, cradling the giant animal to his chest and shoulders. “Heavy, aren’t you?” He grunts, taking a couple of steps toward the wagon. Gently, he places the dog inside and unties the shirt from around his waist. “Sorry I don’t have anything better. But if it rains, this will help.” He drapes it over the dog, reaching for the handle of his wagon. He starts to pull, adjusting quickly to the new weight as he tugs it back onto the main road. The clouds are directly overhead now and Liam picks up his pace when he feels the first drop of rain against his arm. The fact of the matter is even if he makes it home before the two of them get thoroughly drenched, he won’t be able to do much without Scott’s help. He pulls his phone out with his free hand, hitting Scott’s name to call him.

“Liam? Is something wrong?” he asks when he answers after barely two rings. Liam hates how that’s the effect he has on his brother.

“There is, yeah.” Another boom of thunder rolls across the sky and the dog whines behind him. “Are you at home? I’m on my way back, I really need your help.”

“You’re still  _ outside? _ ”

The surprise and perpetual worry in Scott’s voice is evidence enough that he’s gone to his next job now; and for the second time today, he’s leaving early because of Liam. He’s never had to leave both jobs in one day before.

“Please Scott, I need you.” He tries to keep the panic and desperation he’s feeling out of his voice; he knows how intuitive animals are and this dog is already injured and in pain, more than likely it’s scared too. He doesn’t need to add to that.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Scott says, ending the call.

“Hear that, buddy?” Liam asks the dog. It doesn’t react. “Scott’s coming home, he’ll fix you right up. You’re gonna be just fine.”

That’s when the heavens open. What started off as a blazing hot, beautiful day has devolved into near enough a certified storm. Liam is drenched in moments, his hair plastering against his forehead and rainwater dripping into his eyes as he picks his pace up even more, half-jogging with the wagon to get home faster. The wagon jolts as it goes over a bump in the road, the dog’s yelp of pain audible even over the storm. 

“I’m sorry, we’re nearly there, I promise.”

He chances a look back and the dog’s eyes are closed; he really hopes its condition isn’t deteriorating or, god forbid, he’s making it worse. The only silver lining right now - as it doesn’t appear there’s going to be one in the sky any time soon - is that his shirt is still in place on top of the dog, so at least it isn’t getting totally soaked.

From a distance he can see there’s a light on in the house, and when he gets closer Scott is standing in the porch waiting for him. He runs out to help when he sees Liam, blanching when he sees the dog in the wagon. Liam risks a look back and the rainwater sloshing around in it is a diluted pink - it’s still bleeding, and badly.

“What have you gotten yourself into?”

“I found it at the recycling center behind the bins,” Liam explains. “It’s hurt. Its stomach is the worst wound, I don’t know if it has any others. Please, Scott.”

Scott gives him a withering look but leads the way inside; neither of them need to state the obvious fact that they couldn’t afford veterinary bills, and it would be them who got lumbered with the cost if they took the animal in. 

Scott starts clearing the kitchen table and Liam pulls the wagon inside, leaving a sopping trail on the floor behind him. This time the dog doesn’t make a sound when they go over the bump at the threshold.

“You’re completely soaked,” Scott says as he disinfects the table. “Can you lift it up?”

“Yeah.” He crouches down close to the dog’s face, probably much closer than he should. “Hey buddy, I need to lift you up again, okay? I’ll try really hard not to hurt you.” 

Liam wraps his arms around the dog’s sides, preparing to lift it up. However when he tries, the dog regains consciousness and begins thrashing in the wagon, snarling at him. Liam recoils but quickly composes himself, going to the other side of the wagon so the dog can see his face. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s only me. My brother Scott’s here, he’s going to help you.” It quickly calms down when it sees him, instead opting to whine pitifully. It clearly remembers him now, so it must have assumed Liam was its attacker. He wants to kill whoever or whatever hurt this poor dog so badly. “He’s the best, he always takes care of me whenever I get hurt. And he loves animals more than people, so I bet he’ll take even better care of you.” He looks over and Scott is smiling softly at him, an expression he hasn’t seen nearly enough of as of late. 

He tries to lift the dog again and this time it goes pliantly, allowing Liam to pick it up. Clearly it deems him not to be a threat. He lays it down gently on its side on the table - the dog is a boy, it turns out - and Scott holds a hand out near its face, allowing it to sniff him. It doesn’t appear to deem Scott a threat either, so he scratches it behind the ears for a moment before clapping Liam on the shoulder and pulling him a few feet away. He glances at the dog before speaking in a hushed tone.

“Liam, listen. I don’t have any anaesthetic.”

His stomach bottoms out at the implication; if the dog remains conscious, it’s going to feel everything Scott does to it. 

Of course he doesn’t have any anaesthetic, only a qualified vet would have access to that. Scott was training to be a vet before their parents’ accident, he was at the top of his class but had to pull out before sitting the final exam so he never qualified. He has all of the skills and he has the tools, he just doesn’t have the qualification to allow him to formally practice. Yet another cruel twist to the tragedy that was their parents’ deaths. If Scott had been able to qualify, they wouldn’t have any money issues at all.

“I’ll handle things here, you need to go for a shower and change into clean clothes. You don’t want to risk getting sick.”

Liam looks between Scott and the dog, torn about what to do. He knows Scott is trying to protect him again, trying to save him from hearing the inevitable sounds of distress the dog is going to make when he starts treating it. He isn’t sure if he can leave the dog though.

“ _ Liam. Go. _ ” 

Scott so seldom scolds him that it’s a surprise to hear him use that tone of voice. It’s enough to startle him into going upstairs, grabbing a towel before heading into the bathroom.

Or at least he plans to, until he hears the noise the dog makes when Scott starts treating it.

He shoots back downstairs like a rocket, almost tripping in his haste. Scott gives him another withering look and motions for him to come over, one hand pressed to the dog’s side to try and stop it squirming. 

“Can you hold it still? I can’t do much like this.”

Liam nods, holding the dog in place for an indeterminate amount of time, soothing it and petting it and promising everything will be fine while Scott stitches it up. 

In the midst of everything it managed to scratch Liam, leaving bleeding claw marks down his arm. Liam barely flinched, just kept soothing it until Scott was done. It had other wounds littered across its body which needed tending to, although thankfully none of them were as bad as the one on its stomach. 

When Scott finishes washing his hands and scrubbing the blood off himself, Liam pulls him into a tight hug.

“Thank you for helping it, I love you so much.”

Scott huffs, and Liam can tell he’s smiling. “Love you too, Li. Want me to take a look at your arm?”

“I’m good, I can clean it myself.” The scratches weren’t deep, they’ve already stopped bleeding. He just needs to wash them out, possibly put a bandage on them overnight or something to reduce the risk of infection. He’s had worse.

“Great. I should head back to work, could you try and do something about this?”

Liam grimaces at the sight of the blood on their table and on the floor, then at the dog curled up asleep on the other side of the room, his quilt draped over it as promised. The last thing they need is for Miss Monroe to see blood in the house when she comes for her next visit. He would be thrown into foster care in no time and Scott would probably be charged with negligence or something. 

“And the dog has to stay on the floor in here. I don’t want to risk it bleeding on the furniture or the carpets if any of its wounds reopen.”

“Fine,” Liam says, somewhat reluctantly. Letting it sleep on his bed was still only a vague idea rather than a certainty but Scott knows him too well.

After Scott leaves for work, Liam sets about scrubbing the dog’s blood off the table and the floor. Thankfully it hasn’t been there long enough to set into the wood, but it’s still tough work. Liam wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm and vaguely realises he hasn’t so much as looked at his homework. It’s a lost cause at this point. Oh well, at least he has an interesting excuse.

It’s getting decently late and Scott won’t be home for another few hours but Liam is wiped out; between his episode at school - it feels as if that happened weeks ago, not just today - cleaning up at the beach, then finding the dog and tending to it, it’s been a long day. He knows Scott said not to let it up on any of the furniture, and he won’t. He just… doesn’t want to leave it alone down here either. Even as he’s running upstairs, he knows it’s a stupid idea. He also knows it when he’s running back downstairs, pillow in hand. He doesn’t want the dog to be lonely, that’s all. He knows it’s a stupid idea when he lays down on the floor, the tiles cold on his side, pulling his quilt over himself too. The dog stirs briefly but closes its eyes again. He knows it’s a stupid idea, and he’s going to be sore when he wakes up in the morning, and Scott is almost certainly going to find him like this and will never let him live it down. But when the dog sidles a little closer to him, and he can feel the warmth of its body pressed against him? Liam can’t bring himself to mind all too much.

 

It turns out Liam minds a lot. 

He’s totally disoriented when he wakes up, cold and sore in the darkness. The first thing he realises is that the blanket isn’t covering him anymore. He feels around and discovers not only is the blanket missing, but the dog is too. Liam curses under his breath and gets to his feet, feeling around for the lightswitch and trying not to cause himself an injury by tripping over anything. 

He reaches it unscathed and blinks a few times, shielding his eyes briefly while he adjusts to the light. It’s not in the kitchen anymore and he huffs, stomping around the ground floor and flicking every light on as he goes to try and find the stupid thing. It’s not like he can call its name or anything, since he doesn’t exactly  _ know _ its name. He’s not in the mood for any late night shenanigans. 

It’s nowhere to be seen on the ground floor so he makes his way upstairs, although he kind of doubts it would have been able to get up here in its condition. He’s swiftly proven wrong when he finds his bedroom door ajar and sure enough, sprawled out in the middle of his bed, his quilt wrapped around it, is the dog. It’s staring right at him, ears perked up, and it blinks once.

“Really? You just left me on the floor?”

One ear twitches but other than that, no response. He wishes the dog could speak or understand him or something, then he would really give it a piece of his mind. Since there’s clearly no need to sleep on the kitchen floor anymore, Liam prepares to get into bed. Except he can’t, because the dog growls at him when he lifts the corner of his blanket and jostles it.

“It’s my bed!”

The dog doesn’t care, apparently. It stays in its spot, unmoving. 

“Stupid asshole dog,” Liam grumbles under his breath, manoeuvring himself under his blanket without disturbing the dog again. He’s lying horizontally at the foot of his bed but that’s apparently the best he’s going to be able to do. 

The dog gives a few short pants and Liam swears it’s laughing at him.

 

When Liam wakes in the morning, it’s Scott’s quiet laugh that catches his attention. He lifts a hand to scrub at his face and belatedly realizes that whatever’s tickling his nose moves right back into place. He pushes and scratches at his face, but the tickling sensation doesn’t stop. “What…” he lets out a quiet groan and attempts to roll over, but a heavy weight has his arm pinned to the mattress. A few inches from his face, a warning growl comes out and Scott’s laugh deepens. 

“I wouldn’t keep doing that if I were you,” his brother says. Liam blinks his eyes open to find a mass of thick black fur pressed close to his face and goes still. The dog huffs and doesn’t stir beyond that, relieving him. 

Somehow, Liam has wound up back in his bed correctly with a blanket wrapped around his waist and a solid wall of fur pressing against his chest. The dog is hot against his skin, but Liam doesn’t follow his initial inclination to move. He settles back down and peers over the lump of the animal at Scott, raising a sleepy eyebrow at him. “Work?” he croaks out. 

“Afraid so, kid,” Scott sighs. “You okay to stay home today?” It takes a moment for Liam’s mind to catch up and remember why he won’t be going to school. He’d forgotten all about his fight with Gabe in the wake of finding the injured dog and rushing him home. 

“I’ll be fine,” Liam answers, yawning loudly. The dog’s paw twitches against the bed, one ear flicking out. “You working a double?”

“Not today. We’ve got that house visit today with Ms. Monroe. Try to stay out of trouble, okay? And try not to let the dog on anymore of the furniture.” Scott smiles gently as the tips of Liam’s ears turn red. 

“I just didn’t want him to be cold,” Liam mutters, flicking his gaze down to the slumbering creature. “Scott? What are we going to do with him?” he asks, biting the inside of his cheek before looking back up to his brother. The older’s arms fold over his chest and he leans against the frame of the door, tilting his head in consideration. 

“I think that’s a conversation for when I come home, Liam. I don’t think we can afford to take care of a dog.” The words aren’t a surprise, but it still stings to hear them. He doesn’t want to abandon this creature that put trust in him. “Don’t pout, Liam. Look, you shouldn’t have a dog anyways, you’re allergic to most pets.” The dog in question lets out a low growl in his sleep and Liam gently scratches behind his ear. The growling gives way, transforming into a low rumble that almost resembles a purr. 

“I haven’t broken out though. Maybe I’m not allergic anymore,” Liam suggests. Scott pinches the bridge of his nose, a fond smile spreading as he looks to the bed. 

“We’ll talk more when I get off work. I promise,” he assures. 

“Okay.” Liam can agree to that. It gives him plenty of time to come up with a plan to make sure they can take care of the dog and keep him from being a weight on their house. “Love you,” he says, burrowing down carefully against the mass beside of him. 

“Love you more,” Scott smiles. Liam closes his eyes, listening to the footsteps fade down the hall. By the time that Scott makes it to the front door, Liam is fast asleep. 

 

The second time Liam wakes, it’s not nearly as peaceful. There’s an irritated growling coming from the foot of his bed and sharp teeth around his ankle, tugging none too gently. He kicks out on instinct and a snarl comes, canine teeth nipping at his heel. “Ow! Fuck!” He throws off the blanket and sits up, blearily rubbing his eyes. The giant black dog seems to be glaring at him from the side of the bed, lips pulled back over his teeth. “What?” he asks, scratching at the back of his head. “Are you hungry?” Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he gets to his feet. The dog heads out of the room without looking back, flicking his tail against the frame of the door as he goes. 

“Guess I’m up.” Liam trudges downstairs, scratching at his stomach as he goes. The dog is waiting for him by the side door where Scott had carried him in last night and realization dawns on Liam. “Sorry boy, I didn’t even think about you needing to go outside.” Liam pats him absently on the head as he goes to unlatch the door and he’s rewarded with a none too gentle nip on his wrist. He steps out onto the front porch and stretches his arms above his head, watching as the dog wanders off into the grass. As if sensing Liam watching, the dog turns his head and bares his teeth in an unhappy snarl. “Sorry, privacy.” Liam holds up his hands and turns around.  _ I can’t believe I’m turning around so a dog can pee _ , he thinks to himself. 

He casts his gaze up to the sky, letting the sun’s heat fan over his face. It’s already starting to get uncomfortably hot and it’s barely past noon. He doesn’t have any plans for the day, something he’s grateful for. Normally he would spend his free days down at the beach or walking around town, but he doesn’t really want to leave the dog all on his own. It’ll be a great distraction to keep him from thinking too much on his latest suspension and all the different ways he’s fucked up. 

Movement to his right alerts him to the dog and he opens the door, following the animal inside the house. “All right. Breakfast time,” he says as he shuffles to the stove. He turns the burner on high and moves around the tiny kitchen, getting out eggs, bacon, and all of the utensils he’ll need to cook. The dog sits down a few feet away, carefully laying down on his side as he watches Liam cook. The sizzle of bacon fills the air within minutes and he inhales deeply, his stomach letting out a fierce rumble. 

As he finishes cooking, he fills a plate for himself and a small saucer for the dog. He sets it down on the floor and makes his way to the table, his mouth practically watering at the delicious aroma of food. He sets the plate down and turns around, going back to fill a glass of orange juice for himself. A noise behind him makes him swivel and he stares in disbelief as the dog puts his front paws on the table, tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. “No, that’s mine! Get down,” he says firmly, marching back to the table. He attempts to push the dog’s front paws, but the dog leans down and snatches his food up in one quick bite. 

“Hey!” Liam protests. The dog slides down from the table and saunters over to the saucer, dipping down and cleaning off the food on that plate as well. “You’re such an asshole. That was my food.” The dog barely looks at him, tail swishing as he walks away into the living room. Liam can hear the distinct creak of the couch cushions and lets out a groan. It’s going to be a long day. 

 

By the end of the day, Liam is feeling worn out. It’s not that the dog has been particularly bad. But he won’t stay off of the furniture and Liam, after an hour of trying, finally gave in. He turned on the television and began flipping through the channels, pausing on a movie that features a dog in a river. “Lassie,” he remarks with a fond smile. It had been one of his favorite movies growing up. “You have a name, boy?” He glances at the black mass curled up at the end of the couch. An ear is flicked in his direction, but the dog doesn’t budge beyond that. 

“Maybe I can find you a name. What about...Rex?” he asks, chewing on the corner of his lip. The dog huffs, almost seeming to shake his head. “Fine. Fido? Rufus? Teddy?” The dog stretches out a paw, kicking him hard in the shin. “Hey!” he laughs, shaking his head. “All right, fine. Hugo? Jackson? Rolf?” He opens his phone, beginning to tap out a list of suggestions for popular baby names. 

“Theodore?” The dog perks up at that, head cocked to the side. “Theo? Maybe that’s less of a mouthful for you.” He reaches down, scratching the dog behind his ear. “Theo. Yeah, I like the sound of that.” The dog makes something akin to a pleased noise, but it quickly transforms into a growl. As Theo sits up straight, Liam faintly hears a car coming down the gravel path to the house.  _ Shit.  _ “Ms. Monroe.” He glances at the time on his phone, wincing as he realizes that Scott isn’t due home for another half hour and she’s early. He’ll have to entertain and figure out what to tell her before things go awry. 

He feels like he’s going to lose either way when Ms. Monroe sees the dog, whether he lets it stay on the couch for her to see or he tries to hide it somewhere in the house. He only has moments to make his choice, so he chooses hide. He lures it -  _ Theo _ , he lures  _ Theo _ \- to another room, the promise of food enough of an incentive to make him move.

“Good boy,” Liam says, scratching Theo behind his ear while he laps up the handful of cereal Liam grabbed in his other hand. Ms. Monroe knocks on the door and Theo immediately starts growling again, his tail standing on end. “No Theo, no growling. This meeting is really important, okay? She’s my social worker, she’ll take me away from Scott if I give her enough reason to. Between you and me, it’s kind of already a done deal. It’s a matter of  _ when _ I fuck up badly enough for her to remove me, not  _ if _ .” He laughs bitterly, fighting against the lump forming in his throat. “God, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, it’s not like you can really understand me.”

Ms. Monroe knocks on the door again a little harder this time and Liam curses, getting to his feet. “Please, please just try to stay quiet while she’s here.”

Liam shuts the door behind Theo and goes to meet his fate.


End file.
